Chapter 18
JAKE
N ow that I’d touched her, I couldn’t stop.
I devoured her lips greedily as my hands explored her supple skin, the curve of her round ass, and her gorgeous tits. I cupped them again, thumbing her hard, dusky nipples as she whimpered against my mouth and bit my bottom lip. My cock strained painfully against my swim trunks.
I buried my lips against her neck while I ran my fingers down her ribcage to trace the line of her bikini low on her abdomen. She tasted like the sea—like salt warmed by the sun—and I wanted to lick over every dripping inch of her.
“Jake,” she panted, clawing at my shoulder as she wrapped her leg over the back of my thighs. The temptation was too strong; I ground myself against her, so she understood just how close I was to losing control.
Part of me longed to punish her for making me want her so badly, but her soft moans wrapped around me, driving me frantic with the need to bring her over the edge with me.
There was still a rational part of my brain telling me we could be seen. We were on a public beach for Christ’s sake.
But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. It was if weeks of wanting had imploded my brain, unleashed something dark and animal in me.
It was only when I heard splashing in the water below us that I froze, shielding her with my body. A man was running in the surf below us, throwing a frisbee for a large black dog. I waited until they’d gone back toward the other end of the beach, then turned back to Olivia.
Something primitive awakened in me at the sight of her beneath me. Her mouth was swollen from my kisses, the skin of her breasts abraded from my scruff.
I’d left my mark on her.
She reached her hand to my cheek, and I turned into it, kissing the palm of her hand. “Someone might see us.”
“Mmm.” I lowered my mouth back to hers, nibbling at her lower lip, drawing small circles with my fingertips over her ribcage, teasing, until she was arching up again into my hands. I smiled against her lips; I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to stop.
“Isn’t that what you want?” I breathed against her ear. “People looking at you?”
“No, just you,” she whispered, rubbing her tits against my chest.
“Christ, I can’t stop.” I groaned as I ground into her again. I had to get control. I sat up, breathing hard.
“No!” The disappointment in her voice would have made me laugh if I wasn’t so painfully hard. Determined that at least one of us would leave this beach satisfied, I tugged her up, settling her between my legs, her back flush against my chest.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you. But first . . .” I covered her breasts with her damp hair. “These are mine. And I don’t like sharing.”
I draped the towel over her, slid my hands down her legs, opening her to me. “Now, you’re going to sit here like a good girl and watch the sunset while I fuck you with my fingers.”
She took a quivering breath and leaned back against me as I held her, one hand splayed over her belly, the other one stroking higher up the silken flesh of her inner thigh.
“You know what I was imagining doing to you that night after the competition?” I asked, and she shook her head as my finger nudged at the edge of her bathing suit. “I imagined trailing my fingers over your panties, pushing them aside. I wondered how wet you’d be when I skimmed them over your clit.”
I kissed the side of her neck and felt her tremble. “I’m wondering how wet you are right now.” Gently, I tugged at the string of her bikini bottoms and tiny triangle covering her slid aside. “If you want me to touch you, you have to say it.”
“God, Jake. Do it. Just touch me already.” She thrashed her head against my shoulder as I slid my finger into wet heat.
“Fuck,” I exhaled as I slowly, gently traced my fingers over delicate, slick flesh.
She was so wet my fingers glided over her, grazing her clit, and she inhaled sharply.
I took my time exploring her, tracing all that delectable flesh lightly with the blunt ends of my fingers, teasing until she was rolling against me.
I stretched a finger up inside her. Damn, she was tight. It would be heaven to be inside her. My cock throbbed against her back at the idea.
The walls of her pussy tightened against me when I found the little mound of flesh, bent my finger against it and then pumped my finger inside her as she writhed against me, whimpering. The base of my hand ground against her clit.
“Do you have any idea how hard I want to fuck you?” I growled in her ear, still pumping as if it was my cock inside her instead of my finger.
I could feel the tension building inside her, so I slowed down and brought my fingers back to her clit until she was arching her back against me, her tits flushed and peeking out of her hair.
“Shhh,” I whispered. “Don’t make so much noise, or everyone on this beach will know you’re about to come.”
“I am, Jake. I’m going to . . .” I circled harder, faster. And then she was making the sweetest keening sounds, trying to stifle her pleasure. I reached my finger back up inside her, pumping gently, as she squeezed out her orgasm.
After the spasms passed, she slumped into me, and I reluctantly removed my fingers from inside her. I kissed her shoulder through the veil of her hair, still not willing to let her go.
“That was incredible . . . and unexpected,” she murmured. I smiled into her hair and wrapped my arms around her, held her as her breathing went back to normal.
So much for avoiding complications.
And yet, right now, holding her soft body against mine as we listened to the rhythmic crash of the waves against the rocks, being with her didn’t feel so complicated. It felt as natural as the tide returning to the sea.
After a few minutes, Olivia stirred in my arms. “Can we go back home now?”
Home. Hearing her say those words made me realize for the first time that Moustiers was beginning to feel like home in a way it hadn’t before she came to stay.
* * *
As soon as we were back on the road, Olivia fell into a deep, sated sleep. I shook my head and smiled. If she was lucky, I might carry her to her room and let her sleep. Or I’d take her upstairs and make her come again, but this time on my cock.
When I pulled up to the house, however, I had to quickly revise those plans. There was a car in the driveway. One that I recognized.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumbled as I turned the engine off. Only then did I remember what day it was. I’d done my best to block it from my mind.
Olivia stirred in her seat, blinking in confusion at the black BMW. “Whose car is that?”
“Lucie’s,” I answered, silently cursing my luck. So much for my plan to carry Olivia upstairs and finish what we’d started back at the beach. I stepped out of the car and opened the door for her, sliding my arm around her waist as I helped her out. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, better than okay.” Her neck flushed, and I wanted to press my lips to the rosy spot of color against her collarbone.
For a crazy moment, I considered dragging her back to the cottage to hide out until Lucie and whoever else she’d brought along had left.
But it was too late. Lucie was already standing at the door waving.
“There he is! The birthday boy,” she cried as she descended upon us.
“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday!” Olivia stared at me indignantly as Lucie threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek.
“He always keeps it so quiet.” Lucie laughed and embraced her.
“Because it’s not a big deal.” There was a reason I never celebrated my birthday. Too many bad memories of birthdays ignored or forgotten as a kid. I’d learned to ignore it myself. It was just another day after all.
“Well, I wish I’d known.” Olivia threw me a hurt and confused look as Lucie led us toward the house.
“I thought maybe you were out celebrating, and I’d brought all this food for nothing. Come see,” Lucie said, guiding us inside where my “friends,” mostly old industry acquaintances, were waiting.
“ Joyeux anniversaire !” they cried in unison.
“Wow.” I flung my keys and sunglasses into the ceramic bowl on the hall table. It was hard to act pleasantly surprised when all I wanted was to toss all my uninvited guests out the door. This was the biggest cockblock in history.
Spencer Apsley, one of Lucie’s fashion photographer friends, was making his way toward me as I stared dumbfounded. I barely recognized him. He had a full beard now and some artfully placed tattoos on display. Most perplexing, he was wearing a beanie in July.
Spencer and Lucie had dated off and on for years. In fact, we’d probably overlapped. I didn’t consider the guy a friend, but he slapped me on the back like he was overjoyed to see me. “Jake, my man. How’s it going, bro?”
“Could be better,” I answered, taking in the rest of my guests: Olivier David, restaurant critic, Fred Minghella, an editor at Lucie’s magazine, and Luc Bernard, the sommelier at Eden Rock.
It dawned on me. This wasn’t a surprise party; it was an ambush.
Lucie was determined to make me part of the fall issue of Vatel .
Reluctantly, I introduced Olivia to them. The way their eyes ran over her made me want to take each outside and grind their face into the gravel. Especially Apsley, who had a reputation for sleeping with young models.
“Congratulations, man,” Apsley said once Lucie had taken Olivia to the buffet.
“For what?”
“Your hot little piece there. You been together long?” He nodded toward Olivia, and I clenched my fist to keep from shoving his obnoxious beanie down his throat.
“No.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t want to talk about it.
I get it. You want to see my girl?” Before I could respond, he’d pulled his phone from his pocket and was scrolling through photos of some girl in a tiny yellow bikini.
Jesus, she was probably the same age as Olivia.
Did that put me in the same league as Spencer fucking Apsley?
“Nice,” I said icily.
“Damn, man. I forgot how deadpan you can be. No emotion. It’s incredible.” Spencer laughed and slapped me on the back again. “Are you kidding me? Look at those legs and that ass. ‘Nice,’ he says.”
Lucie sauntered over just in time to prevent me from telling Spencer to fuck off. Placing her hand on my arm, she said, “Since Spencer is here, we thought we could organize the photo shoot tomorrow.”
And there it was. “I told you I’m not doing that.”
“Oh, come on, Jake. Please. You’re not going to make me beg, are you?” Lucie batted her eyes at me and clutched her hands together under her chin.
“I’d like to see that,” snickered Apsley.
Ignoring him, I dragged my hand through my hair. “Lucie, I don’t want to be photographed or interviewed for this piece.”
“Why?”
Because I can’t taste anymore, and I feel like an enormous fraud . “I don’t want to, all right?”
“Jake, I need this issue to be a success or I’m out as deputy editor. I need a compelling story like yours: youngest master of wine in history, business in three continents. Not to mention this.” She gestured to my body. “I know it would sell.”
Her eyes started to glisten, and she cleared her throat and looked away.
My stomach clenched. I’d always been a sucker for women’s tears.
I couldn’t deal with them. I’d do just about anything to make them stop.
And, dammit, Lucie had always been there for me.
I’d just have to suck it up and do the damn article.
“Fine. One day . I’m giving you one day. ”
“Perfect!” Lucie threw her arms around me. “I already moved my bag into the room downstairs. Can Spencer take Jin’s room?”
I groaned and glanced over at Olivia. She smiled uncertainly at me. Was it possible that only an hour ago I’d been exploring every inch of her body on the beach?
Getting through the next twenty-four hours was going to be torture.